


Maybe I Do

by avocadoapocalypse



Category: The Goldfinch (2019), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Boris POV, Fluff, M/M, am I posting this at 3am without proofreading it again? yes, basic antwerp you know the drill, bc theo pov is difficult and also depressing, they're a little drunk but when aren't they, they're in love, this is my first time writing them so I'm sorry if I didn't do them justice :(, this is soft bc i say so, this is sometime post canon i think but since im bad at time who knows when tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-11-02 00:36:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20562017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avocadoapocalypse/pseuds/avocadoapocalypse
Summary: Boris and Theo meet up in Antwerp to watch TV and get drunk together just like old times. Boris wonders if Theo still feels the same way.





	Maybe I Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [undxrdcg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/undxrdcg/gifts).

Boris felt a warm feeling in his stomach as he looked over at the man sitting next to him on the couch. Theo, Potter, his Potter, handsome face slightly illuminated by the flickering TV screen as he idly flipped through the channels. The two of them together, just like old times after nearly a decade apart. 

The snow was falling softly outside of his Antwerp apartment. Several beer cans sat in various stages of fullness on the coffee table. Theo was tipsy, but not drunk. Though they had spent so long apart, the two years they had spent living together as teens had been more than enough time for Boris to memorize Theo’s drinking patterns, memorize everything about him, really. Boris remembered many a lazy afternoon spent hovering in this stage between tipsy and drunk, watching movies and swimming in the pool, sharing secrets and cigarettes but never doing anything to cross whatever imaginary line stood between them in the daytime. If he wanted to say something now, there was a good chance that Potter would remember it in the morning. Boris wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

Theo made some comment about something on the TV. Boris wasn’t paying attention, but the familiar sound of his voice was comforting. Warmth had swelled familiarly in his stomach the moment his first swallow of beer sloshed down his throat. It wasn’t just from the alcohol. The warmth in his stomach spread up through his chest and coalesced into a lump in his throat. He tried to swallow, taking another swig of his beer. Sitting here drinking with Theo brought back all sorts of memories. In Vegas he and Theo didn’t have it easy, but they could always numb the pain and loneliness with the drugs, the alcohol, the laughter, the proximity to each other. 

Theo paused from flipping channels and Boris realized he was staring at him expectantly. He turned to the tv, where a woman in a tight black dress stood in front of a colorful weather map. Theo laughed an achingly familiar laugh and said,

“Hey Boris, remember when you thought it was snowing in Dubai?”

“What do you mean, ‘thought.’ I know what I saw and it was miracle, you asshole.” Boris replied.  
Theo flashed him a look and went back to channel surfing, and Boris appreciated how their mutual silence is comforting and familiar rather than awkward. Internally his heart was doing jumping jacks. How much of their time in Vegas did Theo remember? Clearly some of his memories were lost to the alcohol, and more, it seems, to repression, if Theo’s terrified face when Boris had brought up their past relationship was any indication. Relationship was maybe not the right word, especially not for how Boris had brushed it off in the conversation. Maybe you thought it was something else. He hated himself even now for that line, one he’d rehearsed beforehand in case Theo had changed his mind. It seemed like he had on the surface, he was marrying this ice princess and tried to leave when Boris had brought up their past. 

But maybe he still felt the same way? After all, the redhead had known Boris on sight, and Theo had rambled on about how he’d taken Russian in college and read The Idiot just to feel closer to him. Boris’ heart swelled. He had hope. If he still felt the same way about his Potter after so long, maybe Theo did too. He hoped his yogurt-ad family, a convenient cover that seemed like a smart idea at the time, wasn’t too convincing.

In the back of his mind he heard liar. Thief. Criminal. Con man. Yes, he had stolen Theo’s precious bird. But he got it back! He got it back and lost it again, but then he tipped off the art cops and Potter forgave him! Plus, here he was going to right the lies, wasn’t he?

Boris let himself fall over and leaned his head against Theo’s shoulder, closing the gap between the two of them. He heard Theo’s breath catch in his throat and his body stiffened before he leaned into Boris. 

He struggled to get comfortable, hyper-aware of where his body made contact with Theo’s. “Potter, you’re tall now! Not fair!”

“Fuck you, I was always the short one when we were younger,” replied Theo. He sounded just like when they were teens, only some of the sharp bite of his words had been replaced with a certain softness. Was it the same softness that Boris felt every time he looked at him?

Theo took another swig of his drink and looked Boris straight in the eyes, an alcoholic glimmer visible behind his old glasses. “Potter, don’t have too many, you may do things you’ll regret tomorrow… if you can even remember!” Boris teased, then his voice turned more serious. Do you think that we are our real selves when we are drunk?” he asked. 

“I don’t know. My father… he was always worse when he was drunk, you know that. With myself, the drinking and the drugs became so much of me, my existence, that sometimes I wonder how it’s changed me, but it feels like this is the only way I can live now. It was a way to escape the thoughts of my mother, a way for the two of us to have fun, a way for me to feel something that wasn’t completely painful. What even is the real me anymore? In all honesty, Boris, I don’t know. What do you think?” Theo finished. Maybe he was too drunk, Boris thought. He seemed to have already forgotten the question in trying to answer it.

“Some people drink and they become terrible versions of themselves, like my father. But maybe the terrible was in them all along? My father, he had his fair share of bad in him. Beating me, building his mines that harmed the environment, it was all too easy for the drinks to bring the darkness out. Some drink to forget, like you. And some drink to have the confidence to do things they would never do without it.” After this, Boris paused and he can feel the tension in the room. He allowed his eyes to drop from Theo’s and onto his lips, just for a moment. But Boris, who Theo had called fearless, did not have the courage to do what he really wanted to do in that instant. 

So the moment passed with a pregnant pause, and Boris continued, “Maybe we’ve said things or done things in the heat of the moment, while drunk, that we’d never do sober. But maybe those are the things we actually really wanted.” he paused and took a deep breath. “Theo, many nights you would crawl into bed drunk, or wake up from nightmares, or I would drag you back inside because you tried to lie down in the street. Sometimes… you said things.”

“What do you mean?” Theo’s eyes lit up like a scared rabbit’s, flighty and defensive. This is exactly what he had done when Boris had brought up their past before and suddenly he was second guessing his decision.

But it was too late now to reconsider. Boris Pavlikovsky was NOT going to let his stupid Potter run away again. Even if he’d misread the situation, if the thing they’d both known well enough then was just childlike dependency, he needed to know. He needed to do this. He took a deep breath and continued.

“Well, if I remember correctly, you would sometimes say… ” and here Boris lets his voice trail off to a trembling whisper. Psh, of course he remembers everything Theo had said. “You’re the only thing that makes me feel ok out here in the godforsaken desert, living doesn’t hurt as much when you’re here with me, let’s run away together…and even I love you.” Boris didn’t pause to breathe, knowing full well that Theo may shut down and leave again once he’d finished. Instead, he struggled to get the words out and pressed on hurriedly “Now, I know you may not have meant it, you were a kid, drunk, needed girls. But let me tell you… I always said it back.” Boris felt something on his cheek and reached up to realize he’d started to cry. He smiled through the tears blurring his vision and mentally prepared himself for Theo to short-circuit, shut down, deny. Not that he could blame him, Boris had also done his fair share of denial.

Theo looked shocked for a moment. His face passed through several stages of panic. Boris could only imagine what Potter was thinking: Potter who was engaged to a woman, who said all manner of things when drunk and never remembered in the morning. Who was terrified of any sort of intimacy and equally terrified of being seen as gay. Boris was just as terrified. He knows this won’t end well, but he didn’t think he could bear losing Potter again, not after so long apart. 

But somewhere while his thoughts are busy racing, Theo leaned in and kissed him.

Boris knows he would’ve rambled on forever, talking circles in his head or out loud if he could make the words come out right, but in that moment his train of thought swerved right off the tracks. Coherent tangents are replaced with Vegas neon lights flashing behind his eyelids and chapped lips against his own, tasting of cheap beer and cigarettes and warmth, Theo’s hands tangling themselves in his curls. It’s everything and nothing like the kiss they shared in Vegas all those years ago. Same feeling of his heart racing and Theo’s lips on his own and knowing this is what he’d always wanted. 

But this kiss wasn’t a goodbye. There wasn’t a cab waiting to take Theo away, before Boris could even tell him everything he was thinking. Yes, he’d wanted to tell Theo he took the bird painting, but it was probably better that he hadn’t. After all, Theo’s watchful little bird had brought them back together again. Maybe this could be a new beginning. Boris hoped kissing Theo would be something he’d get to get used to.

Boris pulled Theo closer even though there was barely any space left between them. His hands explored Theo’s back and as he gently stroked the back of his neck, he felt Theo’s body shiver. How long had he spent dreaming of those lips, lying awake in bed wishing he had his Potter next to him? He felt Theo sigh into the kiss and nothing else had ever mattered.

Eventually they broke apart, gasping for air. Boris felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. Stupid cliche, yes, but still not inaccurate. Theo was smiling his stupid grin and Boris was melting inside. Again. 

“So I take that as a yes?” Boris said, breaking the silence. “You meant those things, all those years ago?” He stared into Theo’s eyes that he’d learned to read so well, searching for traces of fear or regret. This seemed far too good to be true. But he saw only warmth, and maybe the glimmer of tears?

Theo was breathing hard, and he paused to catch his breath for a moment before speaking. “I never would have had the courage to say it out loud. Well, sober anyways, I guess. I figured you always knew how I felt. I was so jealous when you started dating Kotku, and I tried to find a normal explanation for us, for my bitterness and envy. But there never was a way to label us, was there? Just the little things, the shared cigarettes, the nights and all the quiet moments I hoped were enough. I almost told you that night I left, after you kissed me. I still don’t know how I stopped myself.” 

“I know what you mean, Potter. I was so scared of it too. Is why I never actually talked to you about those nights. I figured, you were too drunk to remember, I did not have to deal with it, yes? Avoid another reason for my father to beat me, never break some unspoken rule between you and me. The truth is, Potter, I felt so much safer with you than I ever had. You know how I grew up, constantly place to place, always moving. But the two of us? We started to have our own little home. It was us and Popchyk against the world, our own little family. I said you thought it was something else, that we just needed girls, and I saw that that bothered you. Truth is, I thought it was something else too. Because it was, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. It really was” 

And Theo may not have been ready to say it- it may be a while before he was- but Boris knew that that acknowledgment was close enough to a confession. His suspicions were confirmed when Theo wrapped his arm around Boris’ waist, pulling him closer. At this point they were both lying down, snuggled up together and trying not to fall down, since the couch was suddenly feeling a bit too small for two grown men. But just being together meant the world to them.

“Hey Boris?”

“Yah?”

“I really fucking missed you. Don’t leave me again, you dumb fuck”

“You’re the one that left, but I missed you too, Potter. Sometimes I wonder why I bother.”

“Fuck you,” mumbled Theo, pressing a kiss to Boris’ forehead.

“Ah, but you love me.”

“Maybe I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> This took me like two weeks and I have so much respect for fanfic writers who actually write decent-length stuff bc I put in so much work and this is just 2k words that aren't even good. Cheers to you.  
Also thank you so much hannah (undxrdcg) for helping edit this and crying about them at 2am with me <3  
Find me on tumblr with the same username and on insta @goldfinchbitch :)


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